ChChChanges
by Expensive Perfection
Summary: Hermione, bitter after losing the one she loves to another woman, misses having a life, and enlists the help of a certain Ginny Weasley to help her capture everyone's attention. Rating will most likely change with the addition of chapters.
1. The Seed Of Change

**I just wrote this, and I've been wanting to post something for years. So, here it is. Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's components. **

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Hermione watched the rain slide across the multicolored glass of the window, at times unsure if the wetness she was seeing was the rain or her own tears. She was sitting alone in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory, as she had been for the last twenty minutes, while the rest of her classmates celebrated just downstairs. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in the match- or should she say battle?- for the Quidditch Cup an hour before, and half her house was in the common room below laughing and dancing and drinking the night away. She knew she wouldn't be missed up here. Ron had Luna, Harry had Ginny, and she had no one.

She wasn't sure what had gone wrong. Well, that was a lie. She could pinpoint it to the day Ron asked Luna to go to Hogsmeade with him. _Luna_, of all people! Hermione had been so sure that he was in love with her that it had not once occurred to her to cement it. Instead, she had spent all of her time in the Library and McGonagall's office, doing double homework and taking on all the Head duties. assuming that Ron would wait patiently. She had been so sure of her life. She would graduate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with flying colors, become an Elf Rights Activist, and buy a flat with Ron, maybe a cute little cottage, and there they would live out the rest of their days with their bushy haired, freckled children, falling more in love each and every day.

So much for _that_. Ron and Luna had hit it off straight away, him finding her babbling completely endearing and loving the fact that she had a "plausible" reason for his ears turning red every five seconds. Right. Because Ron was _definitely_ a distant relative of the Blast-Ended Skrewt. Ha! She had been sure that it was just some passing infatuation; that they would both come to their senses- well, Ron, anyway, seeing as he actually _had_ senses- and the whole thing would be forgotten. But for some reason, months later, they were still together and more in love than ever.

Fresh tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks as she replayed the first time Ron told Luna he loved her. Christmas morning, it had been, in front of the whole Great Hall. Romantic as hell, of course, and all Hermione had gotten was a knit sweater in her least favorite color that she already had six of and some chocolate frogs. She had spent the rest of Christmas cooped up in the restricted section of the library, looking up Dark curses and knowing she would never use them. It had made it easier to deal with at the time, though.

What had happened with Ginny and Harry? True, she had spent no more time with them than she had with Ronald, but Ginny was her best friend. Surely she could understand that Hermione was a little busy? Harry, too. They had each other, though, and so they probably weren't missing her much either. She wasn't angry at them like she was at Ron, though. On the contrary, she thought they were adorable and was quite excited to be a bridesmaid at the wedding that was sure to take place.

She stood up with a sigh, letting the blanket that had been covering her fall to the floor, and for once not picking it up. She wasn't sure anyone would notice if she did. To be honest, she wasn't sure anyone noticed anything she did for them. Harry and Ron had been getting her help with homework for so long…was it simply expected now? What if she didn't turn in a homework assignment? What would they do?

"Yeah, right," she murmured to herself, knowing she could never not turn in homework. Something else… She began walking toward the door, ready to go back to her own Heads dorm and take a sleeping potion, but caught sight of her reflection in a large mirror hanging on the wall. Hermione slowly walked toward it, mentally going over what people had mentioned to her over the years. Hair too bushy. Eyebrows unkept. Clothing too modest. Her eyes were large and framed by thick, dark lashes, though. She supposed a little mascara couldn't hurt. She naturally had a slight tan and clear skin, thanks to her mother's genes. She didn't spend much time in the Dining Hall, which explained her thin frame. She could stand to gain a few pounds, even. Her legs were slightly toned from her regular walks around the lake.

It wouldn't hurt to get a haircut…maybe look into some glamour charms. She had never been against such things; she just hadn't ever seen the point in them, and didn't feel like getting up early just to apply them. She remembered that there was a trip to Hogsmeade just the next day, and a smile spread across her face as she rushed down the stairs.

It took her all of two seconds to find Ginny and Harry draped across each other on a sofa, staring blissfully into each other's eyes. She approached them cautiously, unsure how to break up such a moment.

"Erm…Ginny?," she finally said timidly. "Could I have a word?"

The redhead tore her eyes from her boyfriend to stare, rather confused, at Hermione. "Of course. Back soon, love," she told Harry. He nodded and untangled himself.

They retreated to a corner and Hermione filled her in on her plans. "So, basically, I want you to help me. I think it's time I grew up a little."

"Hermione! Do you have _any_ idea how long I have been waiting for this day? Oh my, we have so much to do! We must go through your closet, decide on a hairstyle, a budget…"

Hermione smiled, happy to see Ginny so excited. "Thank you so much, Gin. I know I've been really busy lately. I've missed you, though."

"I've missed you too. Honestly, you should come to the dorms more, I feel as if you've disappeared lately! I know it must be nice having your own common room and bedroom and all, though.Wish I was Head Girl!"

"Yes, if only they _were_ my own! But of course I get to share it all with Malfoy," Hermione replied with a sigh. "I know it's been bad, though. It's just that I've been so afraid to ask Malfoy to do anything; he bites my head off if I so much as sneeze too loudly!" As she said this, she realized that she didn't remember the last time the Head Boy really _had_ insulted her. Honestly, it must have been weeks. They weren't exactly getting along, of course, but they _had_ worked together on a few different projects this year as a part of their Head duties. Maybe they had both grown out of that phase? No…she was probably going to walk in later tonight and be called about ten different foul names because she walked too heavily or something equally ridiculous. Ugh.

"Well, what did you expect? Why don't you talk to McGonagall about it? She can make him do more work," Ginny suggested.

"Maybe. I'm going to go to bed though, night Ginny! Thanks again!"

"Okay. See you at eight sharp!" Ginny smiled innocently, but it did nothing to ease Hermione's feeling that tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

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**Well, that sets up the story a bit. I really just wrote this on a whim with no clue how I planned on going about it. Honestly, I hadn't planned on starting another story until this summer, but the urge struck and i followed it. Reviews are, of course, welcome **


	2. Planted & Growing

**Da da, da da! Chapter two. Read, review, and enjoy! (i know, these are rather short; i don't want to rush anything, but the plot is defintely taking shape in my head...i'm really excited to continue with it )**

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When Hermione awoke the next morning, she felt peaceful for the first time in months. She took a deep breath, smiled into her pillows, stretched…the whole nine yards. She threw off her covers so that she could stand and walk to the window. The sun was shining, it had stopped raining, and everything looked much greener and refreshed. How appropriate.

She practically skipped into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Of course, she didn't _actually_ skip. Hermione Granger wasn't a skipper. All the same, she showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed with much more enthusiasm than usual, not that her former amount of enthusiasm had been hard to overtake. Once she had checked out her simple capris, flip-flops, and tee combo in the mirror and fastened her lucky pearl necklace around her neck, she made her way down the stairs to grab a muffin from the common room before she left to meet Ginny.

When she entered, she was disappointed to find that Malfoy had taken the last lemon-poppyseed muffin. "That boy," she muttered. "Always finding ways to make my life worse. Even when he has no idea he's doing it."

"You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, Granger."

Hermione jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice. She whipped around so that she could properly give him an indignant look, but stopped short at the innocent grin on his face. Where was the usual smirk?!

"I was _not_ talking to myself, thank you very much!"

He chuckled. "Denial is the second."

Now Hermione was confused. Grinning and chuckling? He was definitely on something. An extremely strong something. "You took the muffin I wanted," she replied lamely.

"So you were talking to the muffins? You are absolutely right, not insane at all. Well, tell you what, you can have this one, I'm getting breakfast in Hogsmeade anyway. See ya." And with that, he tossed her the muffin and exited their common room, leaving Hermione staring after him, completely dumbfounded but satisfied all the same as she had her muffin.

When she and Ginny got to Hogsmeade, they had everything planned out. Ginny had been surprisingly understanding about the small amount of time they had been spending together. Hermione had thought she would be groveling the day away, but it turned out groveling was not needed. Putting her foot down, though, evidently was.

"No, Ginny, I am _not_ going to dye my hair blonde!" Hermione repeated for the seventh time as they made their way to the salon. She should have known Ginny would push for something drastic, but she was the only person Hermione knew who was both sane _and_ helpful in these areas. Not a very easy thing to come by.

"Hermione, I'm not asking you to get a tattoo on your butt! Just a few highlights here and there! And it isn't like Muggles do, with their silver paper and whatnot. Just a few quick spells! It'll look good!"

"I should hope you aren't asking me to get a tattoo, because I would have to hex you. I'm not worried about the time, Gin, I'm worried about this being a very drastic change when all I want is something subtle. I just want to look like a girl, not a bookworm. I'm keeping my hair color, and my curls, so don't start on that either!" Hermione shot Ginny a warning look as the last words escaped her mouth.

"Oh, no, of course not! Curly hair can be very sexy," Ginny replied wisely. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just a few smoothing potions, a warmth potion rinse- brighten up your color a bit, you know- and we'll be good to go!," she finished brightly, nodding her head up and down for effect.

Knowing she wasn't going to win, Hermione just kept her mouth shut. It didn't sound so bad, really; as long as she didn't get anything high-maintenance, then she was fine. "Here goes nothing," she said nervously, stopping in front of the salon.

"Oh, come on!" Ginny said impatiently, and dragged Hermione inside.

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Two hour, twenty nine minutes, and a much tamer head of hair later, Hermione was feeling nauseous. "No. Way. Ginerva Weasley, you put that horrid scrap of fabric down right this instant!"

They were in a dress shop now, both looking for something to wear to the upcoming Seventh Year Ball. At the end of every term, the seventh year students had a ball to celebrate their release into the Real World. Ginny was, of course, going with Harry, and Ron with Luna. Hermione had no date, but as she was Head Girl, it was required of her to go.

"Stop being a prude! Put it on this instant, Hermione Jane!"

"No! I would not wear that if you paid me a million Galleons and a lifetime supply of chocolate! _Not happening."_

Unfortunately, Ginny was a lot stronger than Hermione. _Maybe I should start playing __Quidditch_, Hermione thought, then snorted. _Yeah, right._

"Wow… Hermione, you look fantastic! Why have I never seen you in a dress?!" Ginny made Hermione spin around a few times, tugged it into place a few times, and shoved her towards the mirror. "You can't tell me you don't look amazing!"

Ok, so it didn't look bad. The dress was a gorgeous emerald green color, beaded along the hem and neck. But the neckline was ridiculously low! It cut a V straight down between her breasts. It ended after that, but still… It was too much. Not to mention the nonexistent back! It came right around and skimmed the top of her butt.

"I suppose it does… But that doesn't mean it doesn't show may too much skin! I cannot wear this in public, and we both know it."

Ginny chewed her lip, pondering. "What if we made some alterations? Make the V neck a little more…friendly? Get rid of that slit up your leg? You have a great back, though; we must keep that at least!"

Hermione thought about it. She was doing all of this to get out of her shell, right? Maybe, just this once…

"Well, all right. Just this once."

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By the time they got back to Hogwarts, Hermione was exhausted. They hadn't stopped moving all day- "No time," Ginny had said- so she was quite ready to settle in front of her common room fire with a blanket and a good book. Maybe even a cup of hot chocolate!

No such luck.

When she got to the Head's common room, she entered to find Malfoy in her favorite cushy chair with her favorite mug, settled in with her favorite blanket. The nerve of that man! Err…boy.

He looked up at the sound of her groaning. "Good day, then, yeah?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "And why would you possibly care?"

He scowled. "I don't. It's called sarcasm, Granger, perhaps you've heard of it," he spat venomously, as if to make up for earlier.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _There_ was the Malfoy they all knew and hated.

The Heads dorms were similar to the Gryffindor dorms, though they held a significant amount more brick, probably to include some Slytherin feel. There were thick rugs covering the floors, large four poster beds in the rooms (in hers, anyway; she hadn't seen Malfoy's and didn't plan to), and fireplaces in every room but the bathroom. Which was nearly as impressive as the prefect bathroom. The whole thing, including common room and dorms, was done in maroon and green with white, silver, and gold accents. Not what one would expect to look good, but somehow Hogwarts had managed.

Hermione dropped her shopping bags on her bed, put away her new clothes, and quickly threw on her uniform skirt and a sweater before heading to dinner. Thankfully, her hair and makeup were already done from the day in Hogsmeade. When she got to the dining hall, she made her way to the Gryffindor table, aware of the strange looks she was receiving from all around the hall. All the same, she sat down next to Ginny as if she had actually come to the dining hall more than sex or seven times in the last two months alone. She turned towards the rest of the table to find Harry and Ron gaping at her.

"What?"

Harry was the first to speak. "Hermione? You look…different. Whats happened to you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing, Harry, I just got a haircut. Honestly, it's as if you've never seen a girl before. Ron, close your mouth," she added with a grimace, eyeing the food hanging haphazardly out of his mouth.

He snapped it shut. "Sorry. The last time you looked like a girl was what, fourth year? Yule Ball, yeah. That's all. It's a bit shocking, you know!"

"Yes, well, you had better get used to it. We've been over this many times, Ronald. I _am_ a girl." Honestly, it was a good thing Luna didn't eat at their table! Secretly, though, she was rather pleased. This was the reason she had made some changes in the first place, after all!

Once Hermione had explained that she had simply been busy lately, and no, she didn't hate them, and yes, she would help them write their Potions essays, the rest of the meal went smoothly, with minimal gaping, even. She was delighted that they were accepting her back so quickly, but obviously she had been quite stupid about the whole thing. Of course they missed her; they were her best friends, after all! She still couldn't bring herself to look Ron in the eyes, but at least they were talking. She even pretended to listen to their play-by-plays of the last quidditch match.

"Hermione Granger?," asked a small boy with sandy hair and freckles. "Professor McGonagall wants to see you and the Head Boy first thing tomorrow morning. Head business."

Hermione sighed. She had so been looking to sleeping in. "Did she specify a time, by chance?"

The small boy shrugged. "That's all she said."

"Okay, thank you very much."

Once she was full, Dumbledore had finished his nightly speech and reminded the seventh years that the ball was just a month away, and she had helped a lost first year (those changing stairs again), Hermione barely made it to her bed in time to shower and crash. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and she dreamed of muffins, blond hair, skipping, and dancing.

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**Phew. Review, please!**


	3. Meetings & Hot Tubs

**Chapter three. It's a bit longer than the first two, and things are falling into place...oh but i still have a few surprises up my sleeve just you wait!**

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Hermione made her way to McGonagall's office the next morning with Malfoy at her side. He had already been awake when she got to the common room, and they had left in an eerie silence. It might have been nice if it hadn't been so strange, but it was. Hermione couldn't understand what was going on with him lately. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had been called a Mudblood. Not that that was a bad thing, of course!

McGonagall let them in and quickly ushered them into two chairs facing her desk. She seemed anxious, but Hermione wasn't worried. Probably just something they needed to do for the upcoming ball.

The Professor held up a tin. "Biscuit?"

"Um…no, thank you. What is it that you wanted to talk about?," Hermione asked, trying to be polite.

"First things first. Have you both got a date to the ball?"

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, who shook his head. "I'm working on it," she said. She would rather die than admit in front of Malfoy that she didn't have a clue who she was going to go with.

"I am as well." Hermione looked at him, surprised. Weren't he and Pansy Parkinson going? Merlin knew they had been together since first year at least!

"Professor, that can't be what you wanted to discuss," Hermione said pointedly.

McGonagall shook the biscuit tin at Draco, who shook his head. She sighed and put it down. "As you know, the ball is a month away. It is customary for the Head Boy and the Head Girl to share the first and the last dances-" she held up her hand as both Hermione and Draco leaned forward in their seats- "which I know you won't like, but you have no choice. Professor Dumbledore insists. Not only that, but it will be excellent for the school to see you two getting along for once," she remarked, raising her eyebrows at them over her glasses. "Inter-house unity, and all that."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She couldn't say no; what kind of Head Girl would that make her? She wanted her professors to be able to ask her to do something and be confident that she not only would do it, but that she would _want_ to do it, and do a good job with it. If not, what was the point? Malfoy didn't say anything either- apparently, he was thinking along the same lines- but she swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. He was sitting stiffly, arms crossed, scowling at the floor.

After waiting about thirty seconds, Professor McGonagall spoke again. "No complaints? I am impressed. You two are being very mature about this, and I appreciate that. Now, while it isn't required of you to go together, that would also look very good. As friends, of course, and it's only a suggestion," she added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces. She must have realized that she was pushing her luck. "It would be much appreciated, however," she said, as if she were hinting at something. "Well, I suppose that is all. Do practice your dancing, please. I would like you to practice at least once a week on your own, as I don't have time to teach you. Thank you. You may go."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said politely, and exited the office behind Malfoy.

They walked in silence for the first few minutes, until Malfoy finally spoke up.

"So, ah…" He cleared his throat. "What do you suppose McGonagall meant by 'It would be much appreciated'? Is she trying to bribe us or what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, I am sure that the strictest, most rule abiding professor in all of Hogwarts is trying to _bribe us_. No, I think she just means she would be so grateful that we would be allowed off grounds or something every once in a while." _Which _would_ be great_, she thought, _but no way am I telling you that!_

"Yeah, maybe. So you know how to dance?"

"Yes, Malfoy, I learned in fourth year with the rest of our class. Not to mention my parents enrolled me in classes when I was younger." Immediately after saying this, she regretted it. He would no doubt use this information to make her feel stupid. How could she have let that slip?

To Hermione's surprise, however, he cracked a small smile. "Yeah, me too. I am a dancing machine."

She couldn't help but smile. Wait, she couldn't help it? What was going on? "Uh…yes, well, we had better practice once or twice just in case."

"I suppose so. I need to make sure you don't embarrass me. It's bad enough that I have to dance with you. Not to mention McGonagall will probably know in about ten seconds if we don't practice."

There he went again. Apparently it was impossible for him to be civil without making it even with a nice insult to follow it up. She huffed and entered the common room, slamming the portrait in his face.

"Oy, Granger, do you mind?" He entered the common room and marched to Hermione's side. "Do that again and see what happens," he said menacingly.

"Yes, I'm just shaking in my robes. The big bad ferret is going to hex me if I don't wait for him in the corridor," Hermione snapped right back.

Malfoy moved to take another step forward, then stopped himself. With one glare at Hermione, he turned and went up the stairs to his room.

Hermione, by now used to these strange episodes, headed down to the dining hall to get herself some breakfast.

"So Hermione, I was thinking. The guys have quidditch practice until three. We should have a girl's day! We can paint our nails, I've been dying to try out that tub in your bathroom! I really want to show you how to do some glamour spells, too! What do you think?"

Hermione had to smile. Ginny was so cute when she got into this stuff. Annoying, but cute. "I'd love to."

"Excellent!," Ginny said happily. "And we can try on our dresses again!"

Hermione laughed. "I guess. Is there going to be a difference between how it looked on Saturday and how it looks now?"

"There might be! We need to make sure they are absolutely perfect so that we can have alterations done in time for the ball!"

Ugh. The ball. What was she supposed to do about a date? Once again, she pictured going with Malfoy. _Whoa, what?_ He was so confusing lately, making her think these ridiculous things! Honestly.

"Earth to Hermione!"

"Hmm? Sorry, what, Gin?"

"I said, I'll go get my things and meet you in your dorm in twenty minutes, okay?"

"Right. Sounds good. See you in a bit!" Hermione threw a quick goodbye wave in Harry and Ron's direction, though she doubted that they noticed, as wrapped up in their talk of practice as they were. She then headed back to her dorm.

"Ouch! Whoa! Ow…," Hermione moaned, rubbing her head. She had bumped into someone, hard, as she turned the corner onto a seldom used corridor, fallen, and it her head on the wall on the way down. She had been walking too quickly, yes, but why was anyone else down here? It was a shortcut to the shortcut to her dorm, and as far as she knew, no one else used it.

"Ow! Bloody hell, Granger, what're you running for?"

Great. Malfoy. "I was…ow…," she muttered. Her head really hurt!

"Oh, honestly, Granger." He sighed, reached down, and lifted her up as if she weighed fifty pounds. "I know I have a hard body, but I'm not exactly a brick wall."

She scowled at him. "I hit my head on an _actual _brick wall, if you must know."

"Does wittle Granger need to go see Poppy in the infirmary? Get a sucker and a kiss on your owie?"

"You. Are. Completely. Insensitive." And with that, she pushed past him and continued her hurry to the dorm.

Unfortunately, he had much longer legs than she did and caught up to her quickly. "Don't be a baby, Granger, I was just joking. Are you all right? You don't have a concussion, do you?"

"No, I do not have a concussion, though I'm sure it pains you to hear that. "

"Why would that pain me? You underestimate me. I am perfectly capable of compassion, and for your information, I am _not_ insensitive!"

Hermione rounded on him. "Why, then? Why are you so mean and hateful to everyone? Are you even nice to your friends? Do you _have_ friends? Do you give a damn about anyone but yourself?!"

He stepped close to her for the second time within two hours. Dangerously close, this time. "You should never speak of things you know nothing about, Granger," he told her quietly. "I, of all people, would know."

She didn't know what to say. Did that mean no? He didn't have friends? She could certainly see why. And what had he meant by 'I would know'? "Wh-what about Pansy?," she asked him softly. "I mean… You two… I thought you were… You know…" She trailed off.

"Ha. Pansy? No. She wants my money. Thinks we're getting married someday…" He ran his fingers long the bricks in the wall. "I've made it clear that we aren't. She's just too stupid to get the picture."

"I see." She really couldn't think of one more thing to say. She realized now that she had never known anything about Malfoy's life. She had known that he was a prat, and his father too. She had known that Lucius was a Death Eater, and she had always assumed that his son would follow in his footsteps. Did all of this strange behavior mean he had had a change of plans?

Malfoy began walking away then, and Hermione felt she should leave him alone, so she stayed behind. But after a few steps, Malfoy stopped and turned around.

"Coming?"

"Oh, uh… Sure. Yeah." She quickly walked to his side.

"I don't usually tell people that kind of thing."

"Ah… I won't say anything," she promised.

He looked at her for a moment. She looked back. He nodded, and they continued in silence.

When they got to the common room, Hermione was relieved to see that Ginny had not yet arrived. She stepped inside, this time making sure Malfoy was close enough to catch the portrait, but far enough back so that it didn't seem as if she had done so purposely. She absentmindedly rubbed her head again as she mentally went over what she and Ginny would need.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She looked up in surprise. "Oh, my head? Yeah, I should be fine. Just a rather large bump. Thanks," she added.

He nodded curtly and went to his room.

"Merlin, this was a good idea," Hermione breathed as she lowered herself into the Jacuzzi-turned-hot tub. She and Ginny had their swimsuits on and were relaxing in the hot water and steam. So far, they had tried on their dresses, decided they both needed new necklaces, painted their nails, and donned facial potions. Now, they were kicking back after all of their 'hard work'.

"Tell me about it. This is amazing, Hermione! I don't understand why you don't do this every day. Especially with such a good looking roommate!"

Hermione's head snapped up so quickly that her vision went blurry for a moment. "I'm-what? What are you _talking_ about?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't act so innocent, Hermione. I know we all hate him, but that doesn't mean we can't look! If I didn't love Harry and whatnot, I'd be over here every day, if you know what I mean!"

Hermione gaped at her. _So I'm _not_ insane!_ "I… I can't say I noticed."

"Stop lying. He's a guy; ten Galleons says he walks around without a shirt on at least twice a week."

"I don't interact with him much, actually…"

"Well, then you need to start!"

"Yes, I'll have to, won't I? It's required of us to dance the first and last dances at the ball. And now McGonagall is pushing to have us go together, if you can believe it!"

Ginny sat up straight. "Wait, run that by me again. You get to _dance _with him? As in, _touch_ that rock hard, lickable body? Oh, you suck. You really suck."

Hermione had to smile. "I guess I do. We have to practice at least once a week before the ball, as well."

"Like, in the privacy of your common room? Ooh, or better yet: the Room of Requirement!," Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

Hermione perked up at that. The Room of Requirement… "Not a bad idea, actually. I'll run it by him later and see what he wants to do."

Ginny smiled and settled back into her seat.

Just then, the door opened, and Malfoy walked in. He stopped short at the sight of the two girls sitting in the jacuzzi, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Aw…I wasn't invited?"

Hermione shrieked. Ginny smiled. "Care to join?"

He smirked at her and let his eyes glance through the water. "Granger? What do you think?"

"I think you need to get- out- _now!" _She responded hotly, accentuating her final words by throwing bottles of bubble bath at him. He ducked, cursed, and ran out the door.

Hermione sat back in her seat, satisfied. Ginny gave her a knowing smile.

"Oh, shut up."

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**hum de dum...REVIEW... hehe. please and thank you!**


	4. Dancing & Planning & Massages, Oh My!

**Chapter four. Hush, you. It's only been a few weeks. : Anyway, this one is a bit longer than the rest, and and a bit better as well!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's components.**

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When Hermione and Ginny finished the rest of their preparations, and were both ready for bed, Hermione finally remembered that she had meant to tell Malfoy about the Room of Requirement. But wait… Was it a good idea? What if he used it to do his evil bidding?! She shook herself mentally, though, remembering that he had shown no signs of being dangerous for a very long time. _Room of Requirement it is, then._

"Be right back, Gin," she told the sleepy redhead, though it appeared her comment wasn't necessary as Ginny was tucked in and looked likely to be asleep by the time Hermione got back.

Making her way quickly up his stairs, Hermione knocked on Malfoy's door a firm and precise three times. It opened, and Malfoy appeared wearing only a pair of striped green boxers.

"Oh! Merlin, would it kill you to wear clothing?!," Hermione squeaked out. She shielded her eyes with her hand. "You could blind someone!"

Malfoy uttered a string of annoyed curses and yanked her hand down. "D'you need something or no? I'm not wasting my beauty sleep listening to you complain about something I could not possibly have foreseen. As if it's my fault you randomly decided to knock on my door as I was just getting into bed! And you would do well to not insult my appearance when we both know it's only unbearable for you to look upon because you're trying _so_ hard to resist it. Besides, you're wearing about the same amount of clothing as I am," he added with a smirk.

Hermione glared at him as hard as she could, at a total loss for words. She glanced down at her boxer shorts and tank top. The shorts had seemed plenty long enough before, but his comment made her feel naked. "I-you-oh! Do you know of the Room of Requirement or not?," she snapped, deciding then that doing this so late had been a bad idea.

"Yes, of course I do; I wasn't born yesterday! What about it?"

"Tomorrow, nine o 'clock sharp! Dance practice, do _not_ be late!" And with that, she turned and marched down his winding stairs and into her room, wondering why her heart was beating as though it was trying to escape from her chest.

* * *

Hermione awoke before Ginny the next morning, at around eight o'clock. She quietly slipped out of bed, threw on a robe- the last thing she needed was a repeat of last night- and tied her hair in a bun before heading downstairs to shower.

She was surprised when she didn't see Malfoy; she had grown used to him being a morning person like she was. She was proved wrong, though, as she opened the door to the bathroom and came face to face with the Head Boy himself, wearing nothing but a towel around his midsection.

Hermione mentally groaned. Would it ever end?

He looked up at the sound of the door. "Tell me, Granger, are you stalking me? Do you have the elves alert you whenever I'm in a state of near undress? ," Malfoy asked her, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"Of course not, you prat! If anything, I would ask them to alert me so I have less of a chance of walking in on it! Unfortunately, my luck as of late seems to have diminished a great deal," Hermione said huffily, and quickly walked out.

He followed her. "Is it impossible for you to finish a conversation, Granger? Must you always stomp off when things aren't going your way? You are becoming excellent at your impression of a five year old."

Hermione mentally counted backwards from ten. She didn't give him an answer, simply changed the subject. "Seeing as your up, I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement in twenty minutes. Okay? Excellent. See you then."

"Can't wait," he told her retreating back with a small smirk. What a spaz, that Granger.

"Ouch! Look, if you're going to keep stepping on me, I'm going to have to levitate you."

Hermione was really, really trying to be patient. She was. But she had never danced with anyone who purposely put his foot in her way, just to make her feel silly and to have a chance to scold her. It was getting quite annoying!

"Malfoy, we both know you doing that on purpose! We aren't leaving until I know we can get through one dance together, so you had better just shut up and _keep your feet away from mine_." She flicked her wand at the speaker in the corner to restart the music, once again appreciative of what the room had transformed into. They were standing in the middle of a small dance floor, music floating around them from the six or so speakers stationed around the room. There were even glasses of water for each of them, magically refilling when they got low. If Malfoy wasn't there, it would have been pleasant.

Hermione stepped towards him once again, carefully joining hands with his and staring at a spot on the wall behind his shoulder to avoid eye contact.

"You know, it's rather impolite to look away from me when we're dancing, Granger. You had better not do that during the ball."

"Or what? You'll step on my toes? Nothing I'm not used to!"

He smirked. "I might do this," he murmured, and pulled her flush against him, letting the hand on her lower back trail a hair lower, something Hermione did not miss.

She pulled back indignantly. "Just what do you think you are doing?!"

"Dancing, Granger." He rolled his eyes at her. "It's supposed to be a little more physical. If you aren't going to make eye contact, at least try to show some emotion elsewhere," he said with a suggestive raised eyebrow, grabbing her and once again pulling her against him.

This time, she was prepared. She would play his little games if that was what he wanted. Walking around half naked, walking in on her hot tub sessions, making her heart race like she was running a marathon. She could do the same to him!

Hermione allowed him to pull her close, snaking her arms around his neck. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked him sarcastically, but inside she was a mess of nerves. The last time she had been this close to a guy, besides hugging Harry and Ron, was when Viktor Krum had visited over the past summer. They snogged a bit, but found that it didn't hold as much excitement as it had a few years ago. They had parted ways as friends, and nothing more.

"This isn't proper dancing form," he informed her, pulling her arms down from his neck and placing them where they belonged, one on his shoulder and one in his own hand. She noted that the hand holding hers seemed a bit warmer, and was clenching hers a bit more tightly. Could it be from the simple act of putting her arms around his neck? She decided to experiment a little more.

"Sorry. Let's try this again." She removed her outer robe before returning to his side in her skirt and button down white shirt. She was glad Malfoy was wearing his pants and his shirt as well; she felt much less awkward. "Right then."

They began dancing again, a bit closer than before and with minimal contact of the feet. She thought it was going very well, but he suddenly pulled away again.

"You're still staring at the wall," he snapped.

She started. Was it that big of a deal? "Oh…right."

He restarted the music yet again, pulling her close, though he was a bit stiffer than before. Hermione hesitantly curled her left hand around his shoulder, feeling the muscles there twitch as she did so. She looked up into his eyes, but now he was looking to the side. She coughed lightly, and he glanced at her. Seemingly recovered from whatever had offended him, his shoulders relaxed and he met her gaze evenly. They danced a perfect waltz, slowly closing the space between each other as the minutes wore on, rarely breaking eye contact.

The song stopped. Her hand slowly slid off of his shoulder, his slowly off of her back, both noticing how cold it seemed when the hands were gone. Their linked hands lingered a bit, but Hermione blushed and pulled hers away before he noticed.

"That was much better, Granger," he said evenly. He collected his robe, and hers as well, crossing the small floor to hand it to her.

"Thank you. So, ah, that went well." She was trying hard to sound normal, sure that the last five minutes could not have affected him as they had her. It was almost wrong that being so close to him made her feel this way. In the end, though, she was only human, right? And being physically close naturally brought forth such reactions. At least, that was what she would tell herself. Not to mention Ginny.

"Very well, yes. It helps that you relaxed a bit, of course. It's funny, though," he said thoughtfully, barely able to contain his grin. "It seems you relaxed more and more the less space there was between us."

Relaxed? Was he crazy? The closer they had gotten, the more laborious her breathing had gotten, yeah. The more relaxed? Definitely not. Still, it would help her out quite a lot if he was under the impression that she wasn't nervous around him. "I was just involved in the dancing," she said defensively. "Most certainly not _you_, if that's what you're implying!"

He laughed. "I said nothing of the sort, Granger. Now you're jumping to conclusions."

She rolled her eyes. "This is pointless. You twist around everything I say and put words in my mouth. I can't win with you."

"So you admit that you lose?"

She let out a strangled, frustrated noise. "See what I mean?!" And with that, she stomped off, not caring that she was doing exactly what he had called her out on only that morning.

* * *

There was only a week left until the End of Year Ball, and the Head Boy and Girl were busier than they had been all year. Boxes and decorations littered their common room, along with many half eaten plates of food and a great many gift bags that would soon be filled with chocolate frogs and class photos. Hermione and Draco, along with the Prefects, had spent every waking moment doing last minute preparations, everyone excited to make the Ball as great as possible.

Hermione was putting the finishing touches on the banner that was to be slung over the door of the Great Hall when Malfoy came storming into the room, plopping himself down in an armchair.

She looked up. "I take it the decorating is going well?"

"Oh, perfect. Little Elijah Starsgaard fell off a ladder trying to impress Octavia Herrington. Took down half a mile of décor with him. Right smart kid, if you ask me."

Hermione clucked sympathetically. "I just finished up the banner; I'll go down straight away and sort it out with you in the morning."

He sighed and reached an arm across his chest to rub at his shoulder, the picture of stress. "I can't wait until this whole thing is over. It's getting quite ridiculous. Those prefects are useless!"

"They aren't useless, they just need a little more focus. Don't worry, it'll get done. You are excited for the ball, though?"

"I guess. Of course, I can't wait to wow the crowd with our amazing dancing skills," he said playfully.

"Ah yes, me either. I just hope whoever you're bringing doesn't try to kill me for touching you. You Slytherins get so protective, I swear."

"Hmm. No need to worry about that, I haven't got a date."

Hermione froze in her seat. "What? You should have had a date weeks ago!"

"Yes, well, we aren't all as perfect as you, Granger," he sneered. "Why, who're you going with?"

She shifted uncomfortably. To be honest, she hadn't thought about it much. She had just assumed if no one asked her, she would say she was going stag in order to be free to attend to any matters during the ball without having to tell anyone where she was going.

Malfoy noticed her hesitate. "Wait, have you not got a date?" He looked positively delighted at her misfortune. Then his face fell a little. "You know what this means, right, Granger?"

Did she ever. "I suppose it means we'll be going together?"

"I suppose. You'd better have one great dress. I won't be embarrassed in front of the seventh years!"

"My dress happens to be just fine, Malfoy, though it seems you haven't got a choice!"

"Well, neither have you!"

"I know!"

"Me too!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They both continued to glare at each other for a few more seconds before relaxing and turning to stare into the fire. They had been doing this a lot lately; being quite pleasant to each other, though having frequent, very pointless rows. Hermione preferred them to that past, though, and even found them a bit amusing.

"Do you need a masseuse or something?" Draco was still rubbing at his shoulder.

He sighed. "No, my neck and shoulders are just killing me. You'd think I'd be fine what with all my Quidditch musculature, but apparently not," he said with a tight lipped smile.

She got up and walked around the couch behind him, sensing another opportunity to make his heart race. She had been enjoying this little game of theirs; brief touches, the dance practices; walking around in boxer shorts. They had gotten much friendlier as well; if she had to place him in a category, she would have put him in with her friends. Now, she gently moved his hand and replaced it with hers, thankful that Harry and Ron had always begged her to work the knots out their muscles after their own Quidditch practices; she was confident in her abilities as a masseur.

He started at first, unsure of what to do, but quickly gave in, relaxing in her hands. She worked the muscles from his shoulders to his neck, getting in between the shoulder blades as well. She could sense him holding back his moans, and smiled. If anyone had told her even six months ago that she would be making _Draco Malfoy_ moan, she would have sucker punched them. Now, though, it didn't seem as ridiculous.

She leaned forward a bit to whisper into his ear. "It's okay to show some emotion, you know. I won't tell."

He tensed again, and for a moment she thought she had ruined the moment. Then, very suddenly, he reached around and pulled her down onto the couch, half in his lap. She shrieked in surprise, then began to laugh. He laughed too, and they were laughing together as if they were best mates. They both trailed off in their laughter after a minute.

"Care to finish what you started?"

"I suppose. Here, turn." He did as requested, and she resumed her minor attack on the knots in his neck. Her hands slipped on his shirt, quite annoyingly too, but she didn't feel comfortable asking him to remove it, so she made due.

"I dunno about you, but my shirt is really annoying me… Would you mind terribly if I took it off? ," he asked, and she sensed a bit of a challenge in his voice.

"Of course not; I was just going to ask you to do so, actually," she fibbed. Well, she had been thinking about it.

He quickly removed it, threw it to the floor, and settled back down. Hermione continued the massage, reveling in the feel of his skin, letting her hands roam a little more towards his chest, but catching herself when it got inappropriate.

"Where did you learn to give massages like this, Granger? Not in a book?"

She blushed. Actually, she _had_ read up on it, but she didn't say that. "I used to give Harry and Ron massages after their practices. I guess I just got good at it."

"Very good…," he murmured, hissing when she hit a particularly tight spot.

"It'll feel better once I get the knot out," she told him apologetically.

"It's fine. Thanks for this, by the way."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling. Malfoy had just said thank you to _her_. "Anytime," she said, unable to keep a shy note out of her voice.

"I just may take you up on that," he said, turning his head to smirk at her. Hermione blushed and reluctantly removed her hands from his body, feeling no more knots. He turned towards her and stretched his arms above his head, knowing full well that she was practically drooling at his biceps, and abs, and…

"Right, well, off to bed!" Hermione quickly jumped up, embarrassed at staring so openly.

"What, I don't get to return the favor? ," Draco asked with a frown. He reached out and gently pulled her back down to the sofa, turning her around to the face the other way. He gently moved her hair out of the way, letting his fingers brush her neck and hearing her sharp intake of breath. Had she been turned the other way, he knew her eyes would be clenched shut. He could just picture the way she was most assuredly biting her lip.

Draco was having the same problem with Hermione's shirt. He let his hands run down her sides to the hem of it. "Do you have anything on under this?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He lifted the shirt up and over Hermione's head, with a little help from her, revealing a simple tank top underneath. He quickly went back to her shoulders, rubbing 

them more to draw out her moans than to actually get any knots out. And draw them out he did. They were quiet and low, but they were moans, and he realized that this was no longer a game.

He was attracted to Hermione Granger. The realization hit him suddenly, and he stopped massaging.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked, concern evident in her voice. She turned her head when he didn't answer, her eyes searching his face.

She had accepted him for the changed person he was. She cared about him, this he knew, and he had to admit he liked it. So, without a second thought, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.

She hadn't been expecting the kiss at all. She had dreamed about it, yes; frequently. But she had never expected it to go beyond her dreams, and she never expected their game to bring them to this level. After the initial shock, however, she felt herself melting into him, and what should have been an awkward position was made scorching hot by him drawing her arms up and around his neck, his hands caressing her sides. She returned the kiss with a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and passion, gasping a little when he finally pulled away several seconds later. They stared into each other's eyes, both confused, but both wanting more.

Draco took hold of Hermione's legs and pulled them towards him in one swift motion so that she was facing him. Her stomach lurched as she realized he was still lacking a shirt. She met his eyes again for a split second before he slowly leaned forward again and stopped with his lips an inch from hers, allowing her to make the final decision. Their eyes locked; she closed the gap and let her eyes flutter shut as she succumbed to the kiss.

He was, as expected, an excellent kisser. His kisses were slow and sensual, his tongue soft in its caresses, and she found herself trailing her hands up and down his back, his sides, playing with his hair. He was impossible not to touch. Apparently, he felt the same way about her, as his hands stayed busy. The massage was nothing compared to this. His hands turned her skin to fire, leaving a burning trail wherever they went. He gently pushed her back into the sofa, drawing her legs around his waist. He didn't grind into her as most guys would have done; he seemed to sense that she wouldn't go for that. He simply settled between her legs, seemingly content in being close.

They stayed this way for the better part of an hour, before Draco reluctantly pulled away. He pulled her up with him, gave her another kiss, and sighed. "It's getting late. We should get to bed."

Hermione was unsure what to say. She didn't know what he expected to get out of this. Was it a one-time thing, or would they do it again the next night? "Yes, I suppose we should," she finally said carefully.

"Do… Do you want to sleep with me?" Hermione looked up in alarm. "Not like that! Just, you know, sleep. But with me. Not alone. Get it?"

Hermione smiled in relief. "That sounds nice." And with that, they linked hands and went up the stairs to his room.

* * *

**Do I really need to say it? Really? Ah, ok. Review, please :**


	5. The Ball & A Pinch Of Jealously

**See past chapters for disclaimer, please. And now, Chapter 5. Finally.**

--

It was the day of the ball, and the Hogwarts seventh year students hadn't been this unfocused since the Weasley twins had turned part of the castle into a swamp. Girls were chattering excitedly, making plans to get ready together; boys were making plans to sneak in firewhiskey. Hermione felt quite proud as she surveyed the Great Hall. One wall was covered with pictures from all seven years of school, along with the class picture from every year up to the current, and beneath them was a table filled with an extravagant layout of food and drink. They had all kinds of dessert, along with a few different main dishes and enough of pumpkin juice and butterbeer to last the class a week. The ceiling was left as is, and it was sure to be a beautiful night, perfect for seeing the stars. The floor resembled ice (though not slippery), transparent in order to see the multicolored lights that they had placed underneath. All in all, it looked fantastic. It was going to be an interesting night.

It hadn't been easy, of course. The last week had been a whirlwind of decorating, making sure everyone knew the rules, the times; making sure the band would be able to find the castle, making the gift bags, finding pictures for the wall. McGonagall had been breathing down her and Draco's neck all week, but had finally given them the seal of approval and bade them goodnight at ten the previous night.

Bed… Just the word made Hermione's heart flutter. She and Draco had been sleeping together every night all week, and it was wonderful. The only time they were able to be together was in the privacy of the common room, and in order to keep up appearances- mostly on his end- they weren't usually in the common room until after dinner. Hermione was fine with it, though; she had been catching up with Harry, Ginny, and Luna lately. Ron was always there as well, but they didn't say much to each other. She had learned, however, that he and Luna were having problems. Apparently, he wanted to take their relationship to the "next level", and she didn't. It made Hermione uncomfortable to hear about; had that been her and not Luna, it would have been much the same situation.

As it was, she was lucky. Draco had, shockingly, not tried even once to do anything she wasn't comfortable with. He slept in pajama pants; she slept in shorts and a tank top. They kissed and touched, but nothing too intimate. He seemed okay with taking it slow, and she was grateful. She had had her doubts at first, but he had immediately reassured her that they would go no further until she was ready.

"Granger, everything is perfect," came an exasperated voice from her side. Speak of the devil. Hermione winced mentally; it was strange, being so close in private and having to pretend they weren't in public. But she understood the need; she herself wasn't quite up to dealing with the rumors and stares. "The ball is in three hours. Go get ready."

"I was just making sure," she replied defensively. There was no one else in the hall, but she kept her tone even anyway; people liked to eavesdrop at Hogwarts. "Now that you mention it, though, I'm supposed to meet Ginny…," she muttered, glancing at her watch.

"Like I care. Meet in front of the hall at seven thirty. No one should be arriving before then, and we need to greet people," he sneered, then dropped his voice to a low murmur and stepped quickly to her side to speak softly into her ear. "I'll see you later, beautiful."

She smiled and brushed his hand before he pulled away and stalked off. Okay, so it was kind of fun.

--

"There, Hermione, you look gorgeous," Ginny said smugly.

It was thirteen after seven (Hermione had been checking the clock every ten seconds), and Hermione was relieved when she heard those words. Finally. She didn't want to be late to her own ball!

"Thanks, Gin," she said gratefully. "I never in a million years could have done this without you!"

Ginny smiled. "Yeah, well," she replied airily. "What are friends for?"

Hermione smiled back. "I'd better get going. You look perfect, Ginny. You can hang out here as long as you like. See you later!"

"Bye! Oh, and Hermione?"

Hermione stopped at the portrait, turning back to Ginny. "Yes?"

"Draco is _hot_. Enjoy him, okay?"

"Oh, Ginny." She rolled her eyes and left the common room. Ginny was the only one, as far as Hermione knew, that was aware of her and Draco, and she never missed a chance to make some sly remark about it.

As she approached the entrance to the Great Hall, she was once again impressed. The doors were thrown wide open, and through them you could see the wall with the pictures, the table of food, and an area set up with tables and chairs. You had to enter the hall in order to see the dance floor and the band.

Draco was waiting outside the hall, as he said he would be. He looked stunning in his dress robes. They resembled a muggle tuxedo, and he had an emerald green tie to match her dress. She realized once again how Slytherin he really was.

"Hermione…wow." He smiled at her as she approached, and she mentally thanked Ginny for talking her into buying the dress. The alterations were perfect; the back was still nonexistent, but there was no longer a slit up the leg, and the v-neck had been turned into a sort of cowl; the extra fabric hinted at an appealing chest in a classy way. The straps were made of silver beads (also very Slytherin, Hermione realized with a grimace), and by the look on Draco's face, it looked good.

"You too," she replied, though "wow" was an understatement. If anyone was born to wear black tie, it was Draco Malfoy. He looked perfect.

He quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking, then tugged her into the shadows and kissed her urgently. She returned the kiss with fervor, being careful not to run her fingers through his hair like she so desperately wanted to. His hands, as well, stayed at her back, though they did their fair share of roaming.

He pulled away all too quickly, straightening his tux and backing up to his post at the door, smirking at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, once again grateful for Ginny; it had been the redhead's idea to use a minor sticking charm on the lip gloss, "for when you get thirsty", she had said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Hermione then went to the other side of the doors, and settled in to greet people and hand out the goodie bags.

--

"And now, the Head Boy and Head Girl, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, will share a dance to kick off the night!," said the lead singer of the band they had hired, The Enchantments, and gestured to his band to begin the music.

Hermione looked around; she didn't see Draco anywhere. But her worries disappeared as he came up behind her, put his hand on her back, and led her to the middle of the dance floor. She placed her hand on his shoulder, the other hand in his, met his eyes, and then everything around them dissolved.

His eyes, so shallow and flat at first glance, now held a depth she never before would have expected them to be able to hold. The grey color was flecked with bits of blue; they were really quite beautiful. They seemed to light up from within when he smiled or laughed, and she loved the way they creased when he did so. He gave her a small smile just then, as if he could read her mind, and she blushed in return.

Sudden applause rang out around them, and it broke the trance. Hermione was disappointed; now she would have to leave his arms. He squeezed her hand and dropped it slowly, replacing his smile with a smirk as he walked off the dance floor to join his friends. Hermione followed suit.

She went to Ginny's side as the band struck up another song, this one much faster and more upbeat. Ron and Luna were fighting as she approached; something about him wanting to sneak off for a snog session.

"Annoying, aren't they?" Ginny muttered to Hermione, dragging her to the middle of the floor. "They fight all the time now, he's such a pig… Anyway, let's dance! You and Draco looked amazing together, by the way. I realized I've never seen you two together; not fighting, anyway. It's quite attractive," she added with a smirk.

Hermione blushed again. "Thank you," she muttered, unsure what else to say. Truthfully, it surprised her that Ginny was taking the whole thing so well. Apparently it paid off to have a friend so interested in good looking men.

She followed Ginny to the center of the dance floor, glancing around sneakily to see if Draco was around. She couldn't find him, so she focused on dancing instead, letting her hips sway and her arms raise above her head. Hermione had fallen in love with dancing at the Yule Ball, though admittedly the whole experience had been lit up by everyone's shock and envy, and then she had been able to spend _time_ with her date. The more she thought about it, the more she had half a mind to just find Draco, drag him to the center of the dance floor, and kiss him in front of everyone. Knowing she couldn't do so made her somewhat sad, and she moved a bit slower, her gaze dropping to the lit floor, following its colors and wishing she were graduated.

Hogwarts had been her home away from home- well, actually, just her plain home- for seven years now. The thought of leaving its magnificence and mystery made her heart clench. At the same time, she was ready to get out into the real world and make something of herself. She was already somewhat famous, of course, having been in the papers numerous times as Harry Potter's best friend and love interest (ha!). But it was time she broke away from that and did something more meaningful.

It wouldn't hurt to be able to see Draco whenever she wanted, as well.

"Hermione?," came Ginny's voice from her side.

"Hmm?," Hermione replied eloquently.

"I _said_ incoming!" Ginny jerked her head in the direction behind Hermione, and for a split second the brown-haired witch hoped it was Draco, come to tell her that Harry and Ron had approached him and said that if he didn't kiss Hermione straight away, they would hex him into next year.

But it wasn't Draco, it was Cormac McLaggen, one guy who would just not take a hint. Ever since gthey had gone to Slughorn's party together in sixth year, he has been approaching her regularly to flirt, tell her jokes, and just generally be a thorn in her side. Hermione sighed, put on a small smile, and said a simple hello as he approached her.

"Would you like to dance?," he asked, sounding more confident than Hermione thought he needed to be.

"Sure," she replied, trying not to feel as reluctant as she felt. Thank Merlin it was an upbeat song, so she wouldn't be forced to touch him and give him any ideas. Although, she now realized, this was an excellent opportunity to make Draco jealous. In fact, it was perfect. Draco didn't know she disliked McLaggen, and she did love to watch him squirm. It gave her a boost of confidence to know that she could make Draco Malfoy, Head Boy and possibly the most intimidating boy at Hogwarts, lose his composure, even if for a moment. He had dated Pansy for two years and she hadn't ever seen him blink an eye at the guys she hung around.

With this in mind, she moved her hips a little slower, and smiled a little wider at McLaggen, who responded enthusiastically by snapping his fingers and moving his feet in what she assumed was supposed to be some form of dancing. Her smile grew even more as she watched him; it was quite pathetic, really, but of course she would never tell him that. At least he was trying.

Cormac reached for Hermione, taking her hip in his hand and managed to pull her about four inches closer before there came a flash of white blond hair and suddenly McLaggen was a foot away, Draco scowling between them.

"McGonagall wants to see us out in the hall. Now," he growled. Without offering an explanation to poor Cormac, he tugged Hermione away, who could do nothing more than throw the poor boy and apologetic glance before turning away and trying to keep up with Draco.

He walked quickly out of the Great Hall, but McGonagall was nowhere to be seen. "Dr- Malfoy, I thought you said-"

But she was cut off by his lips, closing urgently over hers as he backed her into the shadows once more. He kissed her passionately, and she sensed a hint of anger in the way he- albeit sexily- pinned her arms above her head and moved his lips down her throat, sucking at her pulse point. She gasped in shock, confused as to what had made him so angry and needy. It felt amazing, though, so she let him finish whatever he needed to get out of his system. His mouth moved back up her neck, circling around to kiss her ear and returning to her lips before he finally pulled away, though he didn't release her hands.

He was looking deep into her eyes, and in his she saw fury, exasperation, lust, and raw jealousy. Was that what this was about? Had that simple little dance evoked this reaction?

He was silent for a moment, searching for words. Finally he spoke. "I didn't like seeing you with him," he admitted. It seemed to make him even angrier, having to say that. "I don't get jealous, and it doesn't make sense that I did. This is supposed to be a secret, after all. But…I just wished we could be like that. Able to be that close without a crowd watching and wondering. They'd probably think I'd slipped you a love potion," he added bitterly.

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "If anything, I should I would be the one needing to slip the love potion. But who cares? Who cares what they think? I…like you. Very much. I just want to be with you; secret or no. I can deal with it."

"But you don't deserve this," he said quietly, finally releasing her arms and dropping his to his sides helplessly. "You should be with someone who can give you what you deserve; McLaggen, maybe. At least with him you wouldn't need to sneak off into the shadows to touch each other."

Hermione was more than a little surprised at this violent mood swing; she preferred the sexy snog against the wall, if she was going to be honest, but it upset her to see him like this. Did he not realize how much she had grown to care about him? She grabbed his wrists and pulled him close again, so that they were nearly nose to nose. "You obviously have no idea what you are talking about. If it means I get to be with you at all, well, I'm taking what I can get! Once we graduate we can do whatever we like, whenever we like," she said teasingly, smiling and raising a hand to his soft cheek.

He seemed a bit mollified, and leaned into her embrace, catching her lips with his once again. This kiss was different; still needy, but in a more…caring way. She didn't know how to explain it properly, but it was nice. It made her tingle all over. They broke apart and she rested her head against his chest, his 

arms going around her. They stayed that way for several moments before a gasp behind them caused them to jump apart.

They whipped around, meeting the eyes of none other than Cormac McLaggen.

--

**Yay, that only took me four months. Ah well, let's just say I had a rough summer. And a rough start of school. It left me little time to write. Actually, the entire time I was writing this, I was peering out my window, watching for TPers. Yep, it's Homecoming again. sigh Ah well. Special thanks to Mallory Monroe for inspiring me to finally finish this damn chapter. Check out her story, Pulse, set in the wonderful world of Twilight. It's amazing! **

**Oh, and as for Hermione's ball gown, think Keira Knightley in atonement. I actually didn't make that connection until after I had written it, but Hermione's dress is of course without the v-neck. Anyway, if you haven't seen Atonement (or read the book), I suggest you do one or the other, or both. **

**Thank you and good night.**


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